


In the Living Room of Malfoy Manor

by ChrysalisGray



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Healer Draco, My poor babies, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Potion abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 19:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16352621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrysalisGray/pseuds/ChrysalisGray
Summary: After the war, Harry Potter had been slowly slipping into a life of insanity and seclusion. He tries a Mind Healer at the request of Hermione Granger and is willing to bring himself back to a world of peace and closure, but his Mind Healer is Draco Malfoy and he isn’t sure how he feels about that.





	In the Living Room of Malfoy Manor

**Author's Note:**

> short drabble i wrote years ago that i just found. enjoy.

He was in the living room of the Malfoy Manor. He’d never thought he would ever see it again, but here he was with a hot mug filled with tea in between his palms. Across from him sat a man with pale blonde hair and storm-cloud colored eyes. Despite the fact that the fireplace was lit and the room had to be about 20 degrees, the man wore a dark green scarf around his neck. He was accompanied with an expressionless mask that was oh-so-familiar and his legs were crossed.

 

“Why do you think you’re here, Mr. Potter?” The man started with a question.

“Because my friends think I need help,” Harry answered with a hint of malice in his voice. It bothered him that Malfoy was using such professional formalities after their history. It was as if there wasn’t an infamous rivalry between them, as if they were strangers, maybe they were.

“Do _you_ think you need help?” Malfoy questioned.

 

Harry shifted in his seat and traced the handle of the mug with his thumb.

 

“I don’t know what I think. Hermione said I needed someone to talk to and that she knew a good Mind Healer. I didn’t realize she meant _you_.”

Malfoy lifted an eyebrow at Harry and folded his hands and put them on his lap and leaned back further into his armchair.

“Well, I have helped Granger in the past. It is not that surprising that she recommended you to me, Mr. Potter. Does it bother you?” Even as Malfoy said these words he still wore that cover void of expression.

 

When Harry did not say anything, he continued. “Well, let’s start off with how you’re feeling.”

 

“Look Malfoy, I don’t really feel comfortable in confiding my feelings to my childhood school rival.” Harry said as he narrowed his eyes. Yes, he was being difficult, but he didn’t even want to be here in the first place.

“That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me anything. We could just stare at each other for the remaining of the hour. Either way, I still get paid.” He said in a challenging voice.

 

Harry let his jaw tighten at Malfoy’s words. He wasn’t supposed to want to hex his Mind Healer was he? Even if said Mind Healer were a pompous git?

 

“Okay,” Harry said, finally giving in, “I mean, as okay one can feel after a divorce.”

“Divorce?” Malfoy had the decency to act oblivious and for some reason that set Harry off.

“Don’t act like you don’t know anything about me and Ginny. It was all over _The Daily Prophet_ for a whole week.”

“I only know what you tell me. I have far better things to do than read the fabricated and exaggerated lies of the Prophet, Mr. Potter,” Malfoy said easily.

 

Harry felt his cheeks redden. He didn’t read The Daily Prophet either, the only reason he had seen that article was because Ginny had flooed into 12 Grimmauld Place angrily asking Harry how they had managed to find out so quickly. That just led to a huge argument which ended in three broken dishes and Harry disconnecting his house from the Floo System.

 

“We decided we didn’t feel the same way about each other that we had at one point in time. Honestly, I don’t even know if I even felt the way she thought I did,” Harry took a sip of the tea, which surprisingly was just to his taste without having to tell Malfoy he drunk his tea strong, before continuing. “Maybe I did, I don’t know. It was great at first, but then the fights became more frequent and…” Harry trailed off, not finishing his sentence.

“When did you notice your relationship with Ms. Weasley changing?”

 

Harry took a deep breath. Their first big fight happened on the day of the 10th anniversary of the War. Harry was chosen to be the Guest of Honor, honestly who else would it have been, and he had to deliver a speech talking about the war and the people they had lost and how they were recovering. Harry honestly hated everything having to do with the War. He tried to even avoid it being _mentioned_ at all costs.  Maybe they thought doing this would rehabilitate the people who still grieved about their lost ones. Maybe they thought it would stop the constant nightmares that floated through his mind. All he knew was that every year when he had to give the same speech with different words, he didn’t feel restored nor did he feel sorrow or grief.

He just felt numb. The affliction from experiencing the war had never hit him, he knew that the time was supposed to come, but it hadn’t yet, and he wasn’t sure it’d ever come. He just felt numb.

 

‘ _Your best friend and wife’s brother died and you didn’t even shed a tear._ ’ A reptilian slither of a voice sneaked into his ears.

“Shut up.” Harry snapped.

“What?” Malfoy questioned.

 

Harry shook his head. “Nothing. What were you saying?”

 

Malfoy just seemed to study Harry’s face, trying to analyze his outburst, before asking his question again.

 

“I said, why do you think you should have felt something?”

“Because you’re supposed to feel something, aren’t you? Many people have died during that war, Malfoy; you should know that more than anyone. Ron’s brother died for Circe’s sake. Did your mother dying not have an effect on you?”

 

He saw a flash of anger in Malfoy’s eyes but it disappeared as soon as it arrived. Harry was suddenly interested in the curvature of the armrest his arm was set on.  That was a low blow and Harry knew it; his father was sent to Azkaban and eventually given the kiss, his mother had later died of asphyxiation. Even Harry had known that Malfoy thought of Narcissa as a queen. As much as it caused Harry to rethink what he originally thought of him, Draco really loved his mother.

“I think our hour is up.” Draco said calmly and Harry put the long forgotten mug on the small table beside him and walked out of the door.

 

 

**-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-**

 

 

The **h** allucinations had gotten more common when the nightmares stopped. Harry had been getting nightmares ever since the end of the War and they had just progressed overtime. They came to the point where Harry would rather stay awake and suffer the consequences at his job. Being an Auror, he had to be alert and quick on his feet, he was neither when the thoughts of his nightmares clouded his brain every time he had to think of a spell quickly or when he and Ron were trying to tie up loose ends of a case.

The last straw had occurred when Harry had been hit in the chest with a _Crucio_ when he was off thinking about the pile of robes beneath his feet as he reflected Voldemort’s curse back at him. He was rushed to the St. Mungo’s and suffered from temporary amnesia. He kept to himself that he felt better when he didn’t remember who he was. What he did.

He had been let go from his job. He was told he could come back when he had a healthy state of mind. That was when Harry had decided to try Dreamless Sleep. It was a sedative that did exactly what it inferred and for that Harry was able to have a somewhat normal life, he laughed with his friends more, and he spent more time with Ginny without arguing. This went on successfully for about three weeks before Ginny had found out about it.

 

“Dreamless Sleep, Harry? Do you not know how dangerous this stuff is? Look at all this!”

 

Harry had replied with a “If it’s so dangerous why did the apothecary sell it to me?”

This led to Ginny throwing out all his potions away down trash and her leaving out the door soon after. Of course, Harry had hid a stash beneath his bed, just in case something like this had happened, he was clever in some ways. It was congenital from what Snape had told him about his father. He guessed they were the same after all.

A few weeks later, he had noticed his first hallucination. He saw Remus Lupin laying on the floor of his bedroom.  His retinas seemed glazed over and his left arm would occasionally spasm as he said the same words over and over again.

 

"You did this to me. You did this to me. You did this to me."

 

The sight had almost made him sick all over the floor.

 

 

**-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-**

 

 

"There's no end to it."

 

Draco Malfoy's eyebrow raised up at this.

 

"To what, exactly?" He questioned.

 

Once again Harry held tea in his hands. He didn't know why he came back. He was sure Malfoy would reject him after what he had said last time. But when Harry had knocked on the door, Draco had opened it, looked at him briefly and walked towards his armchair.

 

"You're late."

 

Harry felt his cheeks grow warm and he rubbed his arm nervously.

 

"Sorry about that. I slept longer than normal. Without the nightmares, it's easier to sleep."

 

Harry told Malfoy about his nightmares and how he took Dreamless Sleep.

 

"Your intake, from what you're telling me, sounds a bit excessive, Mr. Potter."

"Could you stop calling me that, Malfoy?" Harry snapped.

"And what should I call you?"

"Potter? Scarhead? Potty? Something other than what you're calling me."

 

Malfoy let his mouth quirk up in the faintest smirk before disappearing. "I called you those things when we were in school, Mr. Potter. When we hated each other."

 

Harry ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Don't we still hate each other?"

 

Malfoy did not say anything for a moment and instead took a sip from his mug. Harry knew it was black tea, sugar and cream. He couldn't stand the taste of strong tea. At least some useful things came out of Harry's obsessive tendencies over Malfoy during his school years. (Although his friends would beg to differ.)

 

"I mean...we were never on the best terms. The only reason I knew about you being a Mind Healer was because you and Hermione were partners in the Healing internship."

 

In fact prior to their prior engagements, Harry hadn't ever been in the same room as Malfoy longer than five minutes. The last time he had talked to him was right after the Malfoy's trail when Harry had spoken for him and given back his wand in which he exhumed from the soil behind Grimmualds Place. He thought that burying it would rid his thoughts of the Summer prior, but it did no such thing. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't erase the screams, the corpses as they littered the grounds of Hogwarts and Draco Malfoy's face as he was brought into the Courtroom during his trail. His eyes were sunken in and held dark circles under them. His skin was paler than normal for him, it no longer looked like the color of moonlight but of the color of death.

The most chilling thing, in Harry's opinion, was his eyes. They held no hope or life in them. They just showed guilt, sorrow, and grief. Harry thinks that this is why he chose to speak on Malfoy's behalf. He wanted some kind of reaction from Malfoy. Some kind of human response to show that he was really there. Malfoy was pardoned but received two years under house arrest where he started studying to become a Mind Healer.

When he was pardoned for his crimes, when his verdict was stated, Malfoy seemed to sway out of the room as if he had vertigo and when he passed Harry he glanced at him and Harry had saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes and that was when Harry told himself that it was all worth it. He hasn't regretted his decision since.

 

 

**-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-**

 

 

Alcohol was another sedative that Harry tended to use. Like now for instance, as Harry took another shot of firewhiskey and looked around the room. It was Ron's 28th birthday party and he was partying like it was his last. Initially, Harry wasn't going to come, but Ron had guilt tripped him into going so here he was.

Although, he'd be damned if he was going to dance like Hermione tried coaxing him to do. He was just about to take his fourth shot of whiskey for the day when he saw a blur of blonde in his peripheral vision. His head immediately turned and he was face to face with Draco Malfoy.

 

"Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed and then winced at how loud he was.

"Potter." Malfoy acknowledged him with a curt nod.

"Not Mr.Potter?"

"This isn't a professional environment, now, is it, Potter?"

 

To his own surprise, Harry smiled. "I guess not."

 

Harry _accioed_ another shot glass and poured the firewhiskey and slid it towards Malfoy.

 

"Thank you."

 

A comfortable silence passed between the two ex-rivals.

 

"What happened to your glasses?" Malfoy asked as he picked at his nails.

"My what?"

 

Malfoy rolled his eyes, resembling his old self quite a bit, for some reason a funny feeling warmed Harry's stomach.

 

"Your glasses, Potter. The Golden Boy's second recognition."

"Don't call me that." Harry said without his usual venom when he was talking to Malfoy. "I had Cataract surgery."

"Cata-what?"

"It's...a Muggle thing." Harry was going to explain but decided against it. He didn't really know himself.

"It makes you look different." Malfoy muttered, it seemed to Harry as if it were to himself, before standing up and brushing his denim jeans. Harry wondered when he started wearing Muggle clothes.

 

He thought Malfoy was going to take off but instead the blonde Slytherin held out his hand.

 

"Care to dance?"

 

Harry blanched.

 

"I can't dance, Malfoy."

"Oh?"

"Were you not there at the Yule Ball?"

 

Malfoy laughed, the git actually _laughed_. A genuine, non-spiteful, beautiful laugh.

 

"I'm pretty sure this'll be different from the Yule Ball, Mr. Potter."

 

And so they glided on to the floor and danced.

 

 

**-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-**

 

 

"How do you manage to get me to do things I'd never do otherwise?" Harry asked to Malfoy as he pointed his wand towards the pile of vials containing the glossy liquid.

 

Malfoy stood next to him with his arms folded. "Because it's what you need to do in order to go further with your rehabilitative life. A restart." His tone was stern but his liquid silver colored eyes were warm and comforting. "You can do this."

 

Harry nodded once before casting a spell that disintegrated the very things that he once thought helped him, but were ,in fact, the very thing that was destroying him. They were his debility.

 

 

**-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-**

 

 

His relationship with Malfoy was changing, Harry knew this for sure. He just wasn't sure if it was for the better or for the worse. It was always about Malfoy. The bickering, the fighting, the taunts, and the sneers. It was all shared between the two throughout most of his life.

When Harry started suffering from withdrawals, Malfoy was right there next to him through it all. When Harry felt as if the world were spiraling, Malfoy was there to steady him. When he'd scream his throat raw from the nightmares, Malfoy was right with him whispering sweet nothings in his ear. It definitely was not a professional relationship between Mind Healer and client but Harry was never one to follow the rules.

Sometimes, when Harry was forced from his nightmares, he would talk about the war and how he really felt about it and Malfoy listened. He didn't listen with Mind Healer ears, however, he listened with the ears of one who cares for another. He'd even sometimes share his war experience at times when he thought Harry needed it.

Maybe it was unhealthy how much Harry had come to depend on Draco Malfoy but the two just seemed to live on each other's energy. When Draco had barged into Harry's home with tears in his eyes and screaming how much he "bloody hated this mark", Harry had simply kissed it and walked away. When Narcissa Malfoy's birthday had come, Harry stood right by Draco's side as Draco talked about his day to her grave covered in flowers. Harry wanted to help Draco as much as Draco helped him.

 

 

**-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-**

 

 

When Harry informed Hermione and Ron about his relationship with Draco he expected Ron to lash out and Hermione to ask if he was under _Imperus_ . He expected Ron to be sick on the floor and Hermione to _tut_.

What he didn't expect, however, was for Ron to groan in exasperation with a "Finally!" And for Hermione to hug him.

 

"What do you mean finally?" Harry demanded.

"Mate, we've known you were obsessed with the Ferret since 5th year, mate. We knew it'd happen sooner or later, right, 'Mione?"

"Right." Hermione said as she feed another spoon of applesauce to Rose Weasley.

 

Harry glared at his best friends. He wondered why they didn't bother to say anything to him. But he'd known that at the time he would have laughed in their face.

As he looked at the smiling faces of his two best friends, he smiled himself. He couldn't have asked for better friends.

He could feel himself slowly recovering to a life he wanted.


End file.
